Big Bad Gray
by gothamcitysyren
Summary: Grasyn Carpenter is accepted to Belgrave University as a third generation legacy. Little does she know just how much college - and three werewolves - will alter her life. When her roommate is murdered after receiving a blue rose, Gray is forced to dig around in the magical underground for answers, bringing her right to the doorstep of The Knights of St. Christopher.
1. Welcome To Belgrave

"What are you even going to do with a major in Philosophy?" Noah questioned, adjusting his hold on the box in his hands. "Like, the psychology's cool. But philosophy? Useless."

Sighing heavily, I lead the way to my dorm. Being our second trip, it was fairly easy to find it. "It's not useless. I'm going to major in psychology, with a _minor_ in philosophy," I replied, shortly.

Noah's eyebrows popped in a gesture as he quickened his pace to reach my side, "Yeah, but why? What are you gonna do with all that knowledge?"

"I'm going to use it to pick you apart until you run home from USD crying."

"That's a whole other year away, Gray."

"You know, Belgrave has some pretty decent pre-law programs," I said, upon reaching the dorm room door. I shifted the box I carried to my left side in order to reach out and push open the door. Letting it swing open, I carried the box inside.

Noah followed in shortly after me. Exhaling audibly, he responded, "I know from the eight hundred other times you've mentioned it since we got here."

I dropped my box on the floor by my bed and stood straight with a sigh. It was no secret I wanted to keep him close. Wanted to convince him he'd find a better offer here. I had a year to complete my mission, but it felt like I was already running out of time.

My window was closing and, if I didn't act fast, he'd be on the other side of the country for the next four years. Considering he's pursuing law, probably a lot longer. "Sorry," I turned to face him, my features portraying my guilt. "I just...San Diego is so far away, you know?"

"Yeah, that's exactly why I'm going," he chuckled, as though it were already obvious.

And, maybe, in some ways it was. It was too soon. I thought he would see it the same way, that he would want more time with the family. It felt like we'd just found each other and now...now all of us were heading in different directions.

It was bittersweet to think about, to say the least. But, on another level, I understood him. With all things considered, it would be surprising he hadn't made moves to get out sooner—as an outsider looking in. "Yeah...I know," I replied, in a small voice.

Just then my roommate, Chelsea, rapped her knuckles on the door frame before stepping into the room. "Hey, sorry if i'm interrupting something, but the tour starts in, like, five minutes," she pointed out. It drew my attention to something i'd completely forgotten.

"Shit, right...the tour," I nodded quickly, before scrambling for my lanyard. "I'm coming, I'm coming."

I snatched it off the bed, pulling it over my head as I turned to face Noah once more. He smiled in understanding, lips pulled tight, and said, "I'll get outta here and let you do your thing. You're coming to dinner this time, though, right?"

"Unfortunately. If I miss another one, mom will literally strangle me," I chuckled a little, trying to keep my spirits up.

Noah stepped forward and I knew what he was going to do. I met him halfway, wrapping my arms around him in a hug. "I'm so proud of you, sis," he spoke quietly, hugging me a little tighter. "Kick some college ass, alright?"

We parted with a mutual laugh. But then I had to get going or I would miss the tour. So we said goodbye and Chelsea and I headed for the start of the tour. I wasn't exactly sure how I felt about her yet, but I didn't get any bad vibes.

So, at least there was that. A few other students had gathered and were waiting for the tour when we got to the statue out front. This is why I needed the tour. I had no fucking idea what or where anything was. Already, I am a train wreck.

_You're being a stupid bitch_, I thought. _It's not pretty. Stop it_.

Sighing, I slid my hands into the front pocket of my sweatshirt. It was a little chillier than I thought it would be when I got dressed this morning. It seemed like an average day on campus, with a glance around at the surroundings.

But I didn't pay much attention to what was right in front of me until some guy shoved another one, raising his voice, saying, "You ask too many fucking questions!"

"I don't want any trouble, okay?" the other guy said, holding up his hands in surrender.

The first guy chuckled once, glancing back at someone who was obviously his friend, "Too late."

His words were barely audible before he took a swing. The other guy easily dipped out of the way, missing it. My eyes were glued on the two in disbelief, but Chelsea rolled her eyes with a grunt. "Seriously?" she grumbled, crossing her arms. "Do they have to use the measuring tape in front of everybody?"

"I'm not sure they need much of it," I commented, shrugging one shoulder.

She snickered, "An inch. Maybe."

"That's a very generous estimate."

Suddenly, Chelsea turned her upper body to look at me with a wide smile-smirk. I looked up at her reactionarily, seeing the movement in my peripheral. But I raised an eyebrow at the expression on her face. "What?" I questioned.

"I think I'm gonna like you," she bobbed her head in a series of nods.

A hard thud pulled my eyes back to the fight in front of us. The first guy's friend tried to come to his aid when he was brutally slammed on the ground by the other guy, but the other guy held up a finger, "You do _not _wanna be second in."

"I love the smell of testosterone in the morning," a blonde woman said, stepping up to the scene. "Smells like...stupidity."

She looked very official—most likely our tour guide. The boys involved in the fighting quickly disbanded. "It's just a misunderstanding," the other guy said, as he helped up the guy he'd pinned. "For which I apologize. We good?"

He held out his hand, but the first guy simply smacked the hand out of the way and walked off, his friend trailing quickly behind him. "They say college is where you meet your true friends, I guess it's also where you meet your best enemies," the blonde said.

"Sorry about that. I'm Jack," the guy said, looking only at her.

She leaned in a bit with a chuckle, "Hi, Jack. I'm just trying to give the tour, so..."

He glanced around a second before nodding, and he backed up to join the rest of us freshmen waiting for the goddamn tour. "Okay, well. Welcome, everyone, and congratulations on your acceptance to Belgrave University. I'm Alyssa Drake and I'll be your tour guide today," the blonde said.

Finally, the tour was going to start. She looked down at her clipboard a second before continuing, "Sitting on over five-hundred acres of land, Belgrave University is considered by many to be a city within a city. It's hard to believe that, at one time, the University consisted of a single building, and this whole area was farmland—providing vegetables for the school's cafeteria."

Jack, the fighting idiot, held up his hand. Alyssa chuckled in a sarcastically hopeless tone. "Look at that, we have a question," she glanced at her clipboard. Then, much quietly, she said, "Already."

"I thought they didn't have a garden until the second world war," Jack said.

Great. One of those. I refrained from rolling my eyes as Alyssa again checked her clipboard. She furrowed her brow, but looked up as she replied, "You are correct. It was a victory garden, attended by the agricultural students."

"And before that, it was a forest, wasn't it?" Jack asked, a bit rhetorical in nature.

"Would you like to guide this tour?" Alyssa questioned, sarcastically.

He shrugged, glancing around at the immediate students nearby. "Sure," he nodded. That was when I rolled my eyes. But I told myself I'd play along, see where this all went. It wasn't like I had much else to do on my first day.

I mean, I had one class. One whole class. And it wasn't until the afternoon anyway. Jack stepped up beside Alyssa, visibly preparing his thoughts, and I braced myself—readjusting my hands inside my sweatshirt's pouch.

"Ethan Belgrave. The university's namesake and benefactor," he spoke up suddenly, thrusting a finger in the statue's direction. "Made his fortune by being a profiteer in the Continental Navy, which makes this the only University ever to be founded by a pirate."

There was a sporadic outbreak of small chuckles throughout the group, and I'll admit I did crack a bit of a smile at his delivery. He lead the group around campus, by Belgrave Hall and then to the Library, where Alyssa took the lead again.

"Okay. The McGrath Reference Library is home to the world's largest collection of anthropodermic bibliopegy—books bound in human flesh," Alyssa said, as we stood in front of the large library building.

It was a beautiful campus. That at least made up for a small part of me actually being here. Alyssa scanned her clipboard, looking for the next part of the script. But she took a little too long. Jack spoke up, "Also it is believed to be the home of Belgrave's own secret society, the Hermetic Order of The Blue Rose."

A legitimate shiver ran down my spine at the mention. Though, outwardly, I only titled my head—squinting against the bright light of the morning sun. Of course there were conspiracies. We'd all heard them, laughed at them, many times.

But such a bold pronouncement? In a severely public place? Maybe this idiot had more balls than I'd given him credit for. And, not so surprisingly, he didn't stop there. He continued, "Some say there's a temple hidden in the basement. Past members include presidents, captains of industry, and more than one celebrity."

My mouth felt a little dry, and my eyes shifted around to gauge the crowd's reaction. They all seemed to take it as just some stupid factoid. I felt a bit of relief. Though, I couldn't help the bout of anxious bumps on my clothed arms as we continued the tour.

I began the line of questioning all over again—questions i'd settled and buried months ago in preparation for this very moment. The moment I walk on campus to stay. A scholarship to Belgrave was no easy feat, I knew that.

After all, mom wouldn't let me forget it. But was this really where I should be? I had no plans of joining The Order, regardless of receiving that elusive blue rose. I didn't want to join anything. I just wanted to enjoy my time here.

Maybe I could feel like a normal person my age for once? Maybe. For now, I had to fight to get through the orientation. Then I could go to my only class for the day and feel like a college student. The campus was quite large, so the tour lasted a while.

But, finally, it came to a close once we'd reached the Belgrave statue. As the final words were being said, Chelsea threw her arms around my shoulders, pinning me to her side in an unexpected gesture. "Hey, wanna go to a really cool party tonight?" she questioned, wiggling her brows.

"Uh..." I thought about it for only a second. That was all I needed to force myself into the college experience. After all, that's what I wanted. Right? "Sure, sounds fun. Where is it?"

"The Sigma Sigma Delta house. Honestly, i'm inviting you because I need a wingman. There's this guy, Dale, and he's so fuckable—like, _really_ fuckable-"

I nodded quickly, pulling away from her with an awkward chuckle, "Okay, got it. I'll be your...wingman."

"Great! Thanks so much. I have class, but I'll see you later?" she said, already beginning to walk away.

"Yeah, see you later," I held up one thumb in a gesture, before stuffing my hand quickly back into my sweatshirt pouch. Chelsea smiled and turned away, speeding up in her journey away from me. Exhaling deeply, I turned to head back to my dorm.

Using on-campus housing was a requirement for the scholarship. Otherwise, I would still be occupying my room at home. But, of course, it was good to branch out and put myself into unfamiliar situations. Right? Right. I needed to be my own person.

I just had to figure out how to do that while living someone else's life. It was hard not to tell my mother that Belgrave wasn't my first choice of school. It wasn't my first, my second, or my third. Originally, I'd wanted to stay as far away from this place as possible.

Then mom would go on about how exciting it was to see me become a third-generation Belgrave alumni, how proud it made her and my grandmother. Suddenly it was a lot more difficult to choose at all. Mostly because I knew the choice had already been made.

Yes, I was stupid enough to go along with it. But what was four years? I could go to this God forsaken University, put in my time and graduate, and then live the rest of my life however I pleased. It's a win-win. That way I don't have to break my mom's heart.

Who knows, I might just have fun here?

I made it back to my dorm and had a bit of time to unpack some things before I needed to find my way to class. The first and only class of the day was my first Psych 101 class. I'd heard great things about Professor Mirage, so I was actually looking forward to the class.

* * *

Chelsea and I walked to the Sigma Sigma Delta house. The booming music could be heard from at least a couple blocks away. Parties weren't really my scene in high school, but I was keeping an open mind. After all, I wasn't there for anything other than fun.

If I wasn't having fun, I could go to my dorm and crash for the night at any time. I wasn't exactly prepared for a party with what I packed so I settled on something a little over-done but still classic—a white skater dress with a leather jacket.

Simple, easy, comfortable. We were greeted at the door by tall, broad-shouldered frat boys, and a pang of regret hit my chest. But I forced on a smile and continued into the house with Chelsea. Everywhere you looked were drunk, or almost drunk, party-goers.

The music was loud in the front area of the house but it died out just enough as Chelsea pulled me into the kitchen. "Wanna drink?" she asked, working quickly to pour herself a beer.

"Uh...sure," I nodded a little.

I stepped up beside her at the kitchen island, where every kind of alcohol imaginable covered the counter surface. Chelsea poured a second drink and then handed me a red cup. It was almost laughable. The thought of me at a party.

Seconds after she gave me the cup, a handful of girls she obviously knew came teetering into the kitchen, and Chelsea lit up. "Hey! I didn't know you guys were coming!" she shouted over the music, turning to face them all.

They started talking, and I slipped away toward the back porch. The sliding glass door was left open and a few party-goers were out on the porch, drinking and talking and smoking. I never liked the smell of cigarette smoke but it was more palatable than the smells inside.

I found a vacant spot out back—a plastic lawn chair—and sat there for a while, sipping on my drink. Alcohol was never really my thing either, but it was more me than this party.

_Give it a chance_, I thought. _Maybe if you actually tried to participate, it wouldn't be so bad?_

I had a point. Then again, my subconscious usually did. It was common sense. Sighing, I pushed myself up off the chair, stepping out of my safe zone, and made my way back into the kitchen. Chelsea was no longer there.

With a quick glance around, I spotted her in the living room, dancing with a couple of the guys. I leaned my butt back into the side of the island with an exhale. Random guests filtered in and out of the kitchen but none of them seemed interested in conversation.

Of course, that could just be me. The kitchen looked as close as I wanted to get. But that was okay, wasn't it? It was my first party. I didn't have to do everything all at once. There were four years at this place I would be able to go to parties in. No rush.

So I stood there, hanging out in the kitchen by myself. At least I had immediate access to the drinks. I could refill my cup without ever leaving my spot. Maybe this party was fun after all? Chelsea stumbled into the kitchen in a fit of laughter after a while.

"Heeeey!" she lit up seeing me. "Where have you been? Are you having fun?"

"I'm just not really feeling it tonight," I replied, scrunching up my nose in an expression.

"Shit, i'm sorry. Hey- maybe we can try again this weekend? I know a house that throws total ragers on the weekends, you literally have no choice but to have fun," Chelsea said, leaning into the island with her palm on the counter top.

I nodded, "Yeah, sure. I'll try it."

"Great! Now go back to the dorm, get some sleep," she said, before pouring more alcohol into her cup. "I'll see you in the morning—I think I have a lecture at eight or something...fuck it, too late now"

My eyebrows instinctively furrowed as my eyes followed her from the island to the living room. She teetered a bit, but she still looked like she had some of her wits, guzzling her drink as she walked. I shook my head with a sigh and headed for the door. That was the last time I saw Chelsea.

The party was a bust. But I did have hope it would be better this weekend. Maybe I would loosen up by then? Maybe I wouldn't be too stressed and nervous to have fun because I will have settled into college life? It was possible. Maybe.

I left the frat house and started the walk back to my dorm. It wasn't a long walk—maybe fifteen or twenty minutes. I wasn't really counting but there was no reason to. At least, that's what I thought was certain. Until I made it back to my dorm and crashed on my bed for the night.

There were no sheets on the mattress yet, but I didn't care. I was tired from walking and a little tipsy from drinking and I just wanted to pass out. So I did. I woke up to the obnoxious sound of banging on my door.

With a minor headache, I was irritated by the interruption. But it was a timely one, considering it was only a few minutes before the alarm on my phone was due to wail. I pushed myself up from the bed, still dressed in my clothes from the party, and shuffled to the door.

"Alright! Alright, i'm coming," I grumbled, frustrated, at the closed door.

Pulling it open revealed Chancellor Stone, a Police officer just beside her. My eyebrows immediately knitted in confusion. "Are you Grasyn Carpenter?" Chancellor Stone questioned, calmly.

A little perplexed, I nodded. That was when my eyes caught movement. My gaze flitted away, to the left, to the right—to the few people in the hall passing by or entering their rooms. They were all looking at me. "Yeah...that's me," I replied, glancing quickly between the people staring.

"Would you mind letting us in? Detective Hayashi has some questions for you regarding your roommate, Chelsea Black," Chancellor Stone asked, not really a question.

Instinctively, I muttered something like 'of course' and moved to let them in, but my head turned, and my eyes went straight to Chelsea's untouched bed. I hadn't noticed it until she said her name. The Chancellor and Detective Hayashi—that was his name right?—stepped inside, and I closed the door behind them.

Detective Hayashi wasted no time in asking, "When was the last time you saw Chelsea?"

Taking slow steps, I moved to the bed, and lowered myself to sit while I answered. "Last night. We went to a party together, I wasn't into it, she told me to go home..." I said, digging into my memory of the night before. Then, I looked up at the Detective seriously, "Did something happen to her? Is she alright?"

"We found her body. We have reason to believe she was murdered sometime earlier this morning," Hayashi answered. He was gentle in his delivery, but no amount of gentle tones could possibly make the news any better.

For a moment, I didn't know what to think. I just sat there, staring at the man, looking like a dumbass. "Why did you leave Chelsea at the party?" Chancellor Stone inquired.

Blinking hard once or twice, I replied, "I- I- she told me to...she looked fine, she was having fun. She's _dead_?"

"I'm afraid so," Detective Hayashi nodded once. "Miss Carpenter, did you see anyone odd or suspicious talking to Chelsea last night? Did anyone or anything seem a little off to you? Anything at all?"

I slowly shook my head, but my mind wasn't all there. No, I hadn't seen anything weird. I hadn't seen anything but a girl enjoying her youth at a party. "Did she mention any arguments, disagreements, bad blood with anyone?" he questioned.

Again, I shook my head, "No, I- honestly, I barely knew her."

"Well, if you think of something else...here's my card. Give me a call," Detective Hayashi said.

He'd dug into his coat pocket and held out a business card. Absentmindedly, I took it. That was what you do in that situation and my brain was working on auto pilot. Obviously, I was in shock. At the time I didn't really think of that, though.

Detective Hayashi and Chancellor Stone left soon after that. As soon as they were gone, I got up, and I went to Chelsea's side of the room. Her bed was made—with a coral bedspread and matching pillows. One pillow had a gold, silk pillowcase.

I don't why, but I took it. Just the case. Maybe it was my mind's way of saying, 'you'll need this to remember her later'? But I barely knew her. Either way, I took it, and put it on the only pillow I brought with me. Then, I went to her dresser.

My hands worked quickly to open the drawers and rummage through, but I had no idea what I was looking for. Not until I found it. I pulled open the third drawer in the dresser and every muscle in my body pulled tight.

_A blue rose_.

It was the only thing in the drawer—other than a small card telling Chelsea she'd been selected. "No, no, no, no, no..." I started mumbling, and I shut the drawer as quickly as possible. My feet shuffled backward. Then I started to pace.

What was going on? The Order didn't kill pledges. That wasn't their thing. Wiping memories was their thing. So, logically, someone else was responsible for her death. Right?

It answered a question for me, though. Why didn't I get tapped to join? Because Chelsea already was. Because they had enough people, obviously. I didn't make the cut, and that was fine, but Chelsea did—and now she was dead.

Something didn't add up here, but I didn't know what. It just felt _wrong_. So, quickly, I got dressed. Dark jeans, my Belgrave sweatshirt, and the easiest pair of shoes to put on at the time—tennis shoes. I took the rose and the card and stuffed them in my bag.

If there was a chance The Order was responsible for Chelsea's death in any capacity, I needed to know. I pulled my bag strap on my shoulder and left the dorm. My fingers tied my hair up in a messy but manageable pony tail as I walked quickly.

Still, everyone around in the hall stared. What was there to look at? What was so worth wasting their time? It was so goddamn aggravating. "What? You want an autograph?" I raised my voice to be heard, glancing at those staring as I walked. "Get a fucking life."

With a toss of my eyes, I kept moving.

This kind of shit is exactly why I didn't want to come to this place. I didn't want to be involved with magical bullshit. Yet, there I was, on a mission to find out if my almost-friend was murdered by a secret society of sorcerers. I mean, what the actual fuck?

Out of context, that sounds so weird. Just lock me up already. Please. I made it out of the dormitory. As I was passing the Belgrave statue, I noticed Detective Hayashi talking with another student. He gave him a card, putting it in the guy's pocket, before heading to his cruiser.

From the back, then a little more from the side, I recognized the student. I started walking toward him without a second thought. "Hey! Excuse me?" I shouted, as I got closer. A little confused, he twisted to look behind him. "It's Jack, right?"

"Um...yeah. And you are?" he asked, turning around to face me fully.

I came to stand just a foot from him, and I held out my hand, "Gray. You mentioned a secret society on campus, something about a blue rose?"

Jack shook my hand without hesitation. Though, the shake slowed to a stand still as an eyebrow rose higher on his forehead, a quizzical look coming over him. "Yeah, I did," he said, looking a little clueless.

"Is this one of theirs?" I dug into my bag and pulled out the blue rose and card. The second it was in view, a look of surprise touched his features.

"Whoa, wait—_you're_ a pledge, too?"

"No...my roommate is. _Was_. She was murdered last night, you might have heard?"

He nodded once, slowly, "Yeah, I heard. I'm really sorry. I don't understand what that has to do with pledging to a secret society, though."

"You're obviously a pledge. Did you see her last night? Did they make her do something that got her hurt?" I questioned him, after zipping the rose and card away in my bag.

Jack inhaled deeply, and his gaze moved to somewhere off to his right. Obviously thinking hard about what he wanted to tell me. My eyes stayed on him, providing pressure, until he answered. Finally, he turned his attention back to me.

"Look, I didn't see your roommate last night. Another pledge was murdered this morning out on a trail. It's starting to look like a new trend," he said.

"Wait, you think they're connected? How?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. But I'm gonna figure it out."

"Let me help you—we can figure it out together."

"Sorry, I'm kind of on a solo mission. It's easier that way. If I find out who killed your roommate, i'll tell you, I promise. I gotta go," Jack said. He patted my shoulder once before walking around me, stepping onto the main walkway from the grass.

My shoulders dropped as I deflated with an exhale. That didn't go as planned. But that didn't mean I had to stop, and I wouldn't—not until I found out the truth. Chelsea deserved that much. I didn't know her well, but she seemed like a good person.

Maybe she and I would've been friends? Now I'll never know. Those Order assholes took that from me. They took a lot more from Chelsea. If I wanted quick and easy answers, all I would have to do is make one simple phone call. But I couldn't.

No one in my family needed to be dragged into this, and that's exactly what would happen. Especially if I fuck this up. So I can't fuck it up. To solve this mystery I needed to retrace Chelsea's steps, starting at the party, and work my way up.

Surely someone at the Sigma Sigma house had seen her after I left. Didn't she mention wanting to shag some guy? What was his name? "Dale," I whispered to myself, as the thought rocketed through my brain. Dale _should_ have some answers.

I rotated on my heels and began walking in the direction of the Sigma Sigma Delta house. It wasn't too far to walk, and the fresh air allowed me to compose myself enough to talk to some hungover frat guys. Which is exactly what I was about to do.

Walking up to the door, the front yard was a bit of a mess from the night before. I sighed, seeing the front door hung open, and took steps inside. "Hello? Can someone point me to Dale?" I called out, glancing into the living room and kitchen as I walked.

A frat guy appeared from the staircase just to my right. He groggily took the steps, a palm pressed to his eye. "What do you want with Dale?" the guy asked, as he reached the bottom. "Did he do something stupid?"

"Uh...well, I don't know. Me and my roommate were at the party last night, we got split up. She mentioned maybe hanging out with him? I just want to know she's okay," I replied, putting on my best worried expression. He bought right into it.

"Oh, yeah, sure. I'll grab him for you."

I nodded in return, feigning relief, "Thank you so much."

The guy sauntered off into the living room and I took a deep breath, readjusting the bag strap on my shoulder. It only took a minute for Dale to come out. He shuffled to the staircase where I waited. "Hey, Brett said you needed something?" he said, a bit curious.

"Yeah, I was wondering if you saw my friend, Chelsea, last night?" I inquired, playing it calmly. "A little taller than me, dark hair, really tan? She was drinking a lot?"

A smile began to spread across his lips as he visibly remembered the night before. He nodded, pointing a finger at me in a gesture. "Yeah, yeah. I remember her," he answered.

"Great. Did she spend the night here? Did she walk home?"

"Nah, she didn't stay here. We were gonna go up to my room but some of the guys were being assholes, so she said she was going home. Last I saw her, she was walking out that door."

"You just let her leave? Didn't offer to walk her back?" I questioned, squinting one eye in my irritation.

"Hey, look, it was really late and I was totally shitfaced-"

I sighed heavily, "Do you remember what time she left here?"

"Uh..." he tipped his head back in thought for a moment. Then, he looked back at me, shaking his head, "I don't know, maybe somewhere around three? I'm not sure."

"Wonderful—thanks."

I stepped around him and headed for the door. If Chelsea left around three, and was killed sometime early in the morning like Detective Hayashi said, that would make sense. Except it didn't take hours to get home. Unless being drunk slowed her down?

Of course, being attacked by someone would definitely slow her down. I hurried down the front steps of the Sigma Sigma house and started the walk back to the dormitory—Townsend House.

I tried to think of the most logical route she would've taken—being drunk—and timed my walk. It still didn't add up. There was too much time missing. I dropped onto one of the stone benches in front of the library with a deep exhale.

This was pointless. The only way to get the facts would be to go to The Order. Problem is, I don't know shit about how The Order operates on this campus. I don't know where anything is. The one person who isn't family that might know, won't help me.

I dug a hand into my pocket and unearthed my cell phone. I didn't dial. My thumb simply hovered over the dial pad, daring myself to hold down the two. It was only day two. Was I really willing to give in so soon?

If it meant getting answers? It felt like I might be. Until a male voice startled me from my thoughts. "Don't you have a humanities class in, like, fifteen minutes?" I twisted quickly in my startle, looking for the voice's owner. Who else could I have found but Jack. "That's all the way across campus."

Relaxing, I rolled my eyes, "Do I even wanna know how the fuck you know that?"

"Probably not. Seriously though, you're gonna be late."

I stood up from my seat and turned to face him simultaneously, causing him to take a step back in surprise. "So, what, i'm just supposed to go to school like nothing ever happened?" I spat the question at him, angered. "A girl is dead! My _roommate_."

"Okay, okay. I know it's difficult. But you gotta give me more time. I'm going to find out who's doing this-"

My mouth started moving instinctively, "Why are you so hellbent on going lone wolf? If we work together, both of us can get the answers we're looking for."

Jack eyed me in indecision, sighing. "God, fine," he finally said, giving in. "But I'm in charge of this investigation, okay? You find out anything, you let me know."

"Okay," I nodded quickly.

"Cool, now, get to class, alright?"

"_Shit_, class-"

I interrupted myself, spinning quickly on my heel to grab my bag off the bench. I started sprinting and I didn't stop. In order to make this arrangement work, I needed to actually be able to graduate. That would require showing up to classes and doing the work.

The Order could wait for an hour or two, right? Right. I'd never run so fast in my life. And that's saying something, considering a huge part of my scholarship is credited to the track and field achievements on my record.

My chest was heaving when I reached the humanities building. Then it was through the door and up a flight of stairs. I checked my phone's clock in nervous anticipation as I walked. Sure enough, I only had a handful of minutes before the class was scheduled.

A heavy, groan-like huff of air came out of my mouth. This happened to me all throughout high school. There was so much pressure from teachers and family to do well that I nearly had an anxiety attack every time I was almost late for class.

Toward graduation, it wasn't as much of an ordeal. I tried to take deep breaths to calm myself from the anxiety and the running as I speed-walked down the hall. My eyes scanned door labels, looking for the right class. This was supposedly the right building.

I knew that for sure. But the right classroom was uncertain. Halfway down the hall was, finally, a philosophy classroom. It was the Professor listed on my class schedule, so I pulled open the door. The class looked to be fairly small.

Inside the room, tables made an open square in front of the Professor's desk. Opening the door alerted the other students already seated to my last minute entrance. Every pair of eyes in the room at least glanced at me.

Let's just say that didn't help my late-to-class anxiety. Though, that wasn't the worst. I could've made it with just stares from the students. Fuck them. But the sudden entrance also drew the attention of the Professor.

It wasn't at all an unreasonable reaction. That wasn't the problem. The problem? There was no way this guy was a Professor—not with a face like _that_. "Can I help you?" he suddenly asked, looking directly at me from where he stood behind his desk.

Hanging on the door just a bit, I replied hesitantly, "Uh...i'm sorry- is this philosophy?"

"It is," he answered, with a small nod and pleasant smile.

I held up a thumb in a gesture, nodding once, and slipped into the classroom. Immediately turning left, I followed the wall around the tables to the very back. Thankfully there was an open seat near center at the back table.

_Just sit in the back_, I thought, _and don't make a complete fool of yourself_.

Once I was sitting down securely in a chair, I opened my bag and pulled out a notebook, along with a pencil and a pen. I hung my bag from the chair and placed my supplies on the table top in front of me.

The plan was to get through this class—by some miracle—without issue and get back to investigating The Order's involvement, if any, in Chelsea's death. "Welcome to philosophy, my name is Hamish Duke," the Professor spoke then, drawing my attention from my notebook. "This semester, we will be discussing David Hume. Are any of you familiar with his work?"

He wrote the philosopher's name on the blackboard, underlining each word, before turning to face the classroom again. A bubble of anxiety crept up in my throat as my hand felt the urge to rise. Yes, I was familiar. Did I really want to put myself in the spotlight, though?

The spotlight where I could be further scrutinized by the uncannily blue eyes of my Professor? A small part of me thought, at the last second, _fuck it_. And that was the part I listened to, instinctively. My hand rose to just above my shoulder level.

A quick swipe of my gaze revealed I was the only one raising my hand. Immediately, Professor Dreamy looked to me, eyes flitting from my hand to my face. He looked pleasantly surprised. "What was something in his works that stuck out to you?" he inquired, stepping out in front of the desk.

Lowering my hand back to the table, I inhaled, "Modesty may be understood in different senses, even abstracted from chastity, which has been already treated of. It sometimes means that tenderness and nicety of honor, that apprehension of blame, that dread of intrusion or injury towards others, that Pudor, which is the proper guardian of every kind of virtue, and a sure preservative against vice and corruption. But its most usual meaning is when it is opposed to impudence and arrogance, and expresses a diffidence of our own judgment, and a due attention and regard for others."

"Ah, An Enquiry Into The Principles of Morals. Not bad," Professor Duke turned and walked back to the blackboard, writing the title with the chalk. "We'll be delving into the book later in the semester."

I did shrink into my seat a little, but I was proud of myself. Proud for speaking up. For not letting high school me dictate college me. I would use this time to prove to myself that I could function as a member of society.

That is, if I can make it through this class.


	2. Beautiful Smiles

I pulled my bag strap onto my shoulder as I merged into the group of students leaving the classroom. The problem with actually going to classes and putting in my time was all the work I had to do. Now I needed to go to the library and study for a paper, and somehow have time in the day to investigate.

Juggling it might be an issue—but if I find the answers I need quickly, it won't be. I just had to find them _quickly _. Thinking about it caused me to sigh heavily. "Gray," a male voice startled me, my head snapping right to find Jack walking beside me now. "I lost my phone number, can I have yours?"

The delivery was great in tone, but he looked to be fighting a humored smile. I fake-laughed and rolled my eyes, causing his playful smile to break through. "Smooth. You're a real Casanova, Morton. What do you want?" I asked, a bit impatiently.

"Your phone number…? Seriously, I don't have a way to contact you that's not in person," he explained, like it should be obvious.

Sighing, I dug into my pocket and unearthed my cell phone. I told him my number as we exited the humanities building. Absentmindedly, I'd headed for the library, and Jack kept walking with me while he added me into his phone.

Finally, he put his phone away when it was in. "Great, thanks. I have some things I gotta do, but I'll text you if I find out anything," he told me, to which I nodded once in a 'thank you' gesture. "What are you doing now?"

"Uh, right now? Studying. But I'm going to keep trying to figure out who killed Chelsea. Obviously, if it involves a secret society on campus, the police won't ever find out. So, _someone _has to," I said, thinking out loud a bit.

Jack nodded along with my statements, "Yeah, that makes sense. Just be careful, okay? Who knows what these guys are capable of, and if you go sticking your nose around in their business-"

"I could be next—I know."

"And that doesn't, I don't know...freak you out?"

I sighed. I could tell him why I wasn't worried about death at the hands of The Order, but that would entail divulging a lot of details about my family. That wasn't something I was prepared to do, especially not with someone I barely knew.

So my mind scrambled for something to replace it with. "Chelsea's family will forever not have closure because of those fuckholes," I answered, turning a bit to see him as we walked. "So, if there's a chance I get banged up giving that to them, that's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Pretty selfless of you, Gray," Jack commented, a bit sarcastically.

The corners of my mouth turned upward as I tilted my head, "You think I'm pretty?"

He barked a short laugh as his expression changed to a humored one, and I took the opportunity to quicken my pace to walk ahead of him. Thankfully, he didn't keep up with me. I assumed he'd split off to do whatever 'things' he'd said he needed to do.

I continued on to the library. It was a massive building, and the interior looked much more daunting. So, naturally, I asked the librarian at the front desk where I could find the philosophy. Ironically, I had to specify what kind.

Then the librarian pointed me in the direction I would find the books I wanted in and I was off. He seemed like a nice guy, probably only working in the library to work off debt. I would be in the same boat if my mother hadn't insisted on the scholarship application.

Working my way through college would've been my ideal college experience, simply because then I would know I truly earned it myself. With Belgrave there was no way of knowing for certain if my family's status had anything to with my acceptance.

Of course, it didn't matter. I didn't want to be here anyway. What did I really care if I didn't earn a spot in a college I didn't want to be in to begin with? _Because it's dishonest, you fool _, my head whispered.

I found the widespread collection of Scottish philosophy and tracked down David Hume. As a child, mom read a lot of philosophy to me. Some of it stuck with me, some of it didn't—but it was a lasting impression that lead to me minoring in it.

It wasn't my major, though. Psychology was much more appealing to me as a main source of study. It was something new, something I'm wildly curious about. So far, I enjoyed the Psych 101 class. But I can't say the writing assignments for the week were enjoyable.

My fingers plucked a couple books from the tightly packed shelf and stacked them in my arms. Then, I started walking back to the front desk. In the silence of the large and immaculate library, a loud buzz caught my attention, startling me into standing still.

I quickly dug for my phone, unearthing it from my pocket to a text from an unknown number. A thought of relief and security fell over me with the thought that it was probably Jack. Upon opening the message, my eyes focused on something different than words.

It was a dark, blurry photo with a party as its obvious setting. In the center of the photo was Chelsea, smiling drunkenly at the camera, with a handful of girls around her. I was only tipsy at the party. Therefore it was easy to recognize the girls.

They were the ones Chelsea was talking to in the kitchen, right before I ducked out to the back yard. The moment I did recognize them, another message buzzed its way in. This time it held a few simple words—_ I know what happened _. Reading the text sent a cold rush of air along my spine.

It was the idea there could be answers that drove my chills.

A third message buzzed in below the second with directions to meet the sender for the full story at the benches in front of the library. It was cryptic as shit, but what other choice did I have? There weren't many options when investigating a magical murder.

I was already inside the library. So, as quickly as possible without looking weird, I checked out my books and walked through the exit.

I'd stuffed the books into my bag as I walked toward the benches with quick steps. There was no sign of my partner in crime, but instead a short brunette anxiously bouncing her heel.

She stood up when I rounded the end of the bench she sat on. "That was quick," she remarked, with a light-heartedness that was visibly fake.

With a quick nod, I thrusted a thumb in the direction of the library, "I was inside when you texted. How'd you get my number?"

"Oh, um, I asked someone. That's not important. I know what happened to Chelsea last night."

"Tell me everything. Don't leave anything out," I encouraged, coming to stand just in front of her.

Her head bobbed a quick series of nods before she inhaled deeply, "I was at the party, she and I- we were having fun, and then she went with Dale somewhere. I didn't see her for a while so I thought she was still with him. But I went on the back porch for a smoke and I saw her in the backyard."

"Chelsea was in the backyard? Why?" I questioned, thinking aloud as my forehead creased.

The girl took a few sporadic glances at the area before putting her hand on my arm, guiding me to turn with her as she began walking. I walked with her voluntarily, but only to get the answer to my question.

She took in another deep breath before speaking. "I don't know for sure why she was out there, but I saw her walk out the back gate and she disappeared," she finally answered.

My mind tried to find reasoning. There was a sidewalk that was a little longer for a trip back to the dorms out that direction. Chelsea could've been wasted and got turned around thinking that was a shortcut? Or, that was just her intention for some reason?

It only added more questions to the ever growing list I'd been compiling in my mind, but at least I knew better where to look for clues that could prove or disprove the Order's involvement.

"Thank you for coming forward, I'm sure it's not easy," I told her, with a casually sympathetic expression.

She nodded sadly, "Chelsea was such a good person. It's not fair something like this happened to her. You know?"

"I know."

The unfair tendencies of life were nothing new, but they never failed to leave a sting. I got her number put into my phone一her name, apparently, was Addison一and was on my way back to my dorm.

I needed to get back to the Sigma Sigma house to investigate this new lead. But I couldn't just go snooping around the backyard of a frat house uninvited.

So my disguise would be a party. I could walk in the front door and no one would bat an eye. I texted Addison when I made it to my dorm, asking her when Sigma was having their next big bash.

She texted back right away with a short message: _tomorrow night _. It was perfect. I had assignments due soon that I needed to study for, but this was higher on my priority list. Although, I did have a whole day before it would be inconspicuous to show up at the Sigma house.

I could make all of tomorrow's classes and lectures with no problem. For the time being, I had two hours before my next lecture, and I needed to use my free time wisely. So I gathered the necessities in my bag and headed out of the dormitory.

There were a few places on campus quiet enough for study, but they were fairly solitary. I wanted to keep one foot in the college and one foot in the high school mentalities, getting my work done and pleasing my mother while simultaneously experiencing college things.

The Blade & Chalice was a spot I wanted to check out already, so I stopped there first. It was a nice atmosphere. I could feel that just from stepping in the door. Though, as it fell closed behind me, I noticed a lack in free space.

It was a busy place. Whether that was an everyday thing or just for today, I had no idea. Either way, my eyes scanned the tables, stools, and booths for an empty spot as I took slow steps further inside.

After a moment, I found a spot. It was a booth not far from the door, along the wall holding some of the only windows in the place, with a male student actively studying in one side. The other side was empty and unoccupied.

I could just leave. I could turn around and leave, and just find a spot in the library. But, then again, I could also force myself out of my shell a bit more by interacting with someone new. There were a few nervous hang-ups. Like the fact that he was not at all ugly.

That was a little intimidating for my shaky confidence, but I forced myself to move toward the booth regardless. I inhaled a deep breath and pushed my lips into my best attempt at a casual smile. "Excuse me?" I said, stepping up beside the table.

He looked up from his open, rather large textbook swiftly. Almost immediately, his lips broke out in a bright smile, his features lighting up from the change. "Hi there," he responded, sitting back in his seat.

My smile turned a little more bubbly at the warm reception, "Hi. Is this seat taken?"

I gestured toward the open side of the booth with a hand, and he took a quick glance in the seat's direction. Shaking his head, he looked back up at me. "Nope. It's all yours," he replied, gesturing across the table.

With a curtly nod, I dropped my bag into the booth and then slid myself in. All the while I could feel his eyes on me from across the booth. Not in a creepy his excitement and intrigue were tangible. A moment after I'd settled in, he stretched his arm across the table to offer his hand.

"I'm Randall," he introduced himself.

I slid my hand into his, grasping firmly, "Gray."

"Nice, I like it," he retracted his hand, bobbing his head with enthusiasm. "Is that short for something?"

"Grasyn," I nodded, before reaching for my bag.

I pulled my notebook and pencils out of my bag, setting them on the empty space of table in front of me, before unearthing my psychology textbook. The plan was to work on psych for an hour and then work on philosophy for the rest of whatever time I had.

So, of course, I brought my philosophy notes and the books I'd checked out of the library. I put those on the table to remind myself to switch subjects after a while. Randall seemed to notice this, leaning onto the edge of the table as he nudged one of the books to better view the title.

"Oooh," he sat back in his seat after a second, smiling knowingly at me. "You're in philosophy. Krowchuk's class?"

I nodded a little, returning the smile, "Mm hm."

"I'm guessing you're a freshman, then…?"

"Right again."

"Cool. How are you liking Belgrave so far?" he asked, leaning into the backing of his side of the booth. He draped his left arm across the top of the backing as he did, taking a more relaxed position.

I'd opened my mouth to respond, paused, then closed it. My eyes averted as I thought about the question for a moment. I never liked Belgrave. But saying I didn't like it out loud drew too much suspicion. Pausing like I did was already suspicious enough.

When my eyes darted back to Randall's, he had a look of confused curiosity on his face, one eye slightly narrowed in the expression. Inhaling, I replied, "Um, i'm still getting my bearings, but it seems nice."

He nodded slowly at my response, still a bit confused by my odd behavior. Any normal person would be. I was terrible at this. A small thought crossed my mind一and I wished it hadn't. I had no idea of knowing just who was pledged.

This guys seemed nice, but he could be one of the Order's new puppets. His beginner status would explain why he didn't recognize me or my name. There was really no way to be sure unless I came right out and said it.

And I couldn't do that for fear of him not being a pledge at all. Then I would seem even more weird. Lord knows I didn't need that. I was acting like a weirdo just fine all by myself.

_At least I don't need the Order for something _, I thought.

"Well, if you ever need help finding your way around or you have any questions, i'd be happy to help," Randall spoke, snapping me back to the conversation. His smile bore teeth, a cheeky display that warmed the space between us.

It was a bit infectious. Or maybe I was just deprived of male interaction. I didn't know for sure, but I couldn't help returning the smile. "Are you this helpful to all the new students?" I inquired, a bit sarcastically.

His smile turned a bit smug, "Only the ones with beautiful smiles."

A small giggle bubbled up my throat. I tried not to act surprised by it but, inwardly, I was mortified. I sat back in my seat, adjusting my ponytail absentmindedly. "Damn. You're really going for it, aren't you?" I commented, with a small chuckle.

"That depends一am I getting there?"

"Maybe. Where are you trying to go, exactly?"

"I was hoping for a phone number," he cocked his head, giving me eyes that were almost puppy-like. Yeah, I was melting a little.

Still that small thought remained in the back of my mind, pushing me to be careful. I couldn't trust anyone just yet. The only one I could work with, that I knew for sure was on _my _side, was Jack. Branching outside that bubble could set me up for pain.

But that smile...something inside me wanted to believe nothing that pure could be evil. That optimism, that hope, might get me in trouble later. Though, for now, I held out my hand, "Give me your phone."

Randall dug his phone out of his pocket and eagerly handed it over. I took the device and entered in my number as a new contact. As I did, I tried to remember the last time I did something like this.

I gave Jack my number this morning, but that wasn't exactly the same thing. That was for the investigation. This was purely for pleasure. There was a difference, right? Right. Once I was added in, I handed the phone back.

As he took the phone from my hand, I tried not to dwell on the slight brush of fingers, turning back to my textbook the moment my hand was empty. I opened the book and readied my notepad and pen.

My eyes flickered between my book and his. I was trying not to make it obvious that I couldn't tell just what he was studying, what with the book being upside down from my point of view. But I failed the second I squinted. "You get three guesses," Randall said, suddenly.

I lifted my eyes from the books to see his smirk of an expression. It was obvious that he was talking about the subject of study. So, I sat back a little in my seat, pretending to think hard about it with knitted brows and quirked lips.

"I don't know...you're fit but you don't seem like a jock type, so I'm going to guess it's something that takes up a lot of your time. Probably a difficult field, something stereotypically selfless一especially considering how smug you're being about it," I went through my thought process aloud with a sarcastic tone.

He chuckled, grinning, "Perceptive. I like it."

"You're either trying to be a lawyer or a doctor, and that's probably as close as I'm going to get."

"Well, you got pretty close, actually一doctor. I'm pre-med."

"Really? That's awesome. I mean- not that I guessed, but that you're pre-med," I stumbled a little, awkwardly explaining myself. Let's face it, it probably wasn't necessary. But it made him smile at me, flashing those puppy eyes一and that was worth the self-inflicted embarrassment.

He folded his arms on top of his textbook, leaning into the table a bit, causing me to raise an eyebrow. "So, what are_ you _trying to be?" he inquired, intrigued. "Wait一don't tell me. A psychologist? No…"

A bit timidly, I interrupted, "I actually don't know."

Randall's head cocked, curious. "Really? You seem like the type to have everything figured out," he said, chuckling a little as he sat back in his seat.

I sat there quietly a moment. A lot of people have mistaken me for someone that has their shit together. And I guess that was the whole point一tricking people into thinking you had it all where it was supposed to be, that everything was going great.

Thinking about my life aspirations sent another small thought across the expanse of my brain. _Didn't I have a lecture soon? _It caused a jolt in my nerves, sending my hand straight into my pocket for my cell phone.

When I pulled it out, my eyes found the clock. Three o'clock. I didn't have much time before the lecture was scheduled to start, and the building was a bit of a walk away. "Shit," I hissed, under my breath. Then, much louder, I added, "I have to go. I'm going to be late for a lecture."

I immediately started shoving my books back in my bag. There was no way that felt like hours of my time. It didn't even feel like one hour. "Oh, alright," Randall replied, as I packed up.

"It was nice talking to you," I commented, standing up from the booth. I pulled my bag strap onto my shoulder, and Randall bobbed his head quickly.

"Yeah, it was nice talking to you, too," he agreed, smiling brightly. "Maybe we could...get a drink sometime, talk more?"

Part of me instantly understood he meant it as a date, but the large portion of me was focused on not being late for the lecture and didn't quite catch it. I nodded, returning the smile, "Sure, sounds fun. See you around."

I turned on my heels and hurried for the door. I pushed through, speeding up the few steps to the sidewalk. If I didn't literally move like my ass was on fire, I was going to be late. A bout of anxiety was beginning to creep up in my chest.

_Don't even fucking think about it _, I thought.

Once again, I was sprinting across campus to meet a deadline. It was only day two. College was going to be a literal nightmare but at least I could stay fit with all this running around. I mean, really, did they have to make Belgrave so fucking big?

Another question for my mother. I took a shortcut across the lawn behind the library. When I got to the sidewalk on the other side, I heard my name called. It was only just loud enough for me to catch it before I'd gone too far to stop.

My feet slowed to a sudden stop and I whirled to see who was trying to get my attention. The feminine voice had sounded familiar. But in my haste I didn't know just how familiar. Not until my eyes focused on Chancellor Stone.

She walked toward me from where she'd been standing before I passed her, just a couple feet down the sidewalk. "And here I thought you'd outgrown sports," she mused, coming to stand just a foot from me.

I eyed her stoically as my fingers tightened around my bag's strap. "I'm late for a class, so whatever you want better not take long," I told her, a bit annoyed by the interruption.

"Well, for one, I wanted to check in and see how you were doing," she said, causing me to sigh. "You seemed pretty shaken up this morning-"

My forehead creased, and I squinted at her, "You got my roommate killed. What exactly did you expect?"

"Your roommate's death had nothing to do with the Order, Grasyn. For all we know, she got drunk and wandered into the woods, and some sick individual saw his chance."

"No," I started shaking my head, taking a step toward her as I lowered my voice. "Don't you dare try to shame her. She was a good person. And she was _your _responsibility. So what the fuck are you even doing about this? Did you catch whatever's killing the pledges?"

The Chancellor shifted her weight from heel to heel, exhaling as her eyes swept to the space over my right shoulder. An unreadable emotion flickered across her features, and I knew一she wasn't doing a damn thing.

I leaned back on my heels as the realization hit me, her hesitation in answering only fueling my assumption. "You don't even know what it is, do you? I questioned, rhetorically.

Her eyes snapped back to mine, and she took a firm stance. "Our practitioners are taking care of the issue," she finally said. "My concern, right now, is making sure you're protected. Have you had any odd encounters?"

"I don't know. Are you asking as Chancellor Stone...or Aunt Vera?"

"Grasyn Olivia, I promised your mother I would keep you safe一and I can't do that when you'd rather be a smartass than be alive. Answer the question."

My shoulders relaxed slowly as I gave a heavy exhale, eyes remaining narrowed as I returned her stare of minor irritation, "No. I haven't."

"Good. Wear this, and let's keep it that way," she said, holding out her hand.

In her palm was a small leather pouch on a rope cord. I knew what it was, and my head tilted in disappointment. "Seriously?" I questioned, rhetorical in my annoyance. "Those things fucking stink."

"I'm sorry, did I not enunciate?" Vera's head cocked slightly as irritation flared in her tone.

A sound reminiscent of a growl escaped my throat as I begrudgingly took the leather pouch from her hand. Never in my life had I encountered one of these that didn't smell like rotting garbage. No wonder it kept the supernatural away.

With a stench that strong, there's no way something with heightened smell could get anywhere near it. Let alone the magical properties that scared away much more. I pulled the rope cord around my neck and let the pouch hang against my chest.

I tried not to gag as a whiff of the contents reached my nostrils. "Good god," I wrinkled my nose, coughing once. "How long am I supposed to wear this?"

"Until we're sure we've taken care of the problem," Vera answered, a bit more calm. "I've tasked a student with keeping an eye on you for the time being. If I hear so much as a word of you trying to get rid of him, I will call your mother. Understood?"

My blood was about to boil right through my skin. A morbid analogy but it gets the point across. "Am I free to leave, Chancellor?" I asked, through gritted teeth.

She eyed me for a quiet second before giving a singular nod. I turned quickly and walked away from her, gaining a few feet before checking my phone for the time.

Three thirty. I was late. Fuck you, Vera.

Time was working against me, and so was everyone on this godforsaken campus. The thought crossed my mind that maybe this was just another sign I wasn't supposed to be here. But I sighed it away.

At least, until yet another roadblock presented itself. Jack fell into quick step with me with an abrupt, "Hey."

I startled slightly, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. "Oh my god. Whatever it is can wait, I'm late," I told him, glancing sporadically as I walked.

"Actually it can't. The Order gave me a list of things to get-" he explained.

"What the fuck does that have to do with me?" I snapped in my irritation.

Jack sighed, "There's something I need your help getting."

My feet stopped abruptly as my shoulders dropped, and Jack turned to face me as I glared at him. He was unwavering in his hopeful stare.

I had to ask myself what was more important一focusing on what my mother wants, or taking the hit to get more information on Chelsea's death. Ultimately, I chose Chelsea.

Sighing, I nodded, "Okay, fine. What is it?"

* * *

"That's all for today."

The class was dismissed. All the students picked up their bags and left the room in a steady flow. But I gathered my things and rounded the long tables to get to the Professor's desk. "Excuse me? Professor Duke?" I spoke a bit timidly, though I wasn't trying to.

"Hm? Oh-" he did a double take in my direction, giving an innocent laugh after the second glance. "I'm not the professor. I'm simply Professor Krowchuk's assistant. But I'm very flattered."

His pleasant smile was borderline smug.

Looking back on the whopping two classes I'd been able to attend, that revelation made a lot of sense. I hadn't even questioned the name difference when he'd first introduced himself to the class, or when Randall asked me about it yesterday.

It was obvious now just how in shock I've been. Thanks to Chelsea's murder, college got off to a really bad start and it was already leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

Slowly, I bobbed my head with my lips pulled tight, taking a sarcastic approach to an otherwise awkward and embarrassing situation. "I probably would know that if I'd gone to the lecture," I reasoned aloud.

He nodded once, "Probably. Is there something I can help you with, though?"

"Yeah...I didn't go to the lecture. I was hoping you could shed some light on the talking points?"

"Of course. Which ones?"

I smiled sheepishly, "All of them."

His lips pulled tight in an expression that said he half expected that answer. I did feel more guilty for skipping, but it wasn't like I had a choice.

This was all such a fucking mess. Yes, I was close to getting some real answers for Chelsea's family. But I was also close to neglecting school. I needed a strong running start in order to get through the semester with good grades.

You can't get good grades anyway if you fucking miss every lecture一regardless if it was for a good cause or not. Hamish sighed lightly before making a gesture toward the tables.

"Take a seat," he said, as he gestured.

"Thank you so much," I said, my tone apologetic as I scurried back to the tables. "I swear I was going to the lecture- I was on my way, but an emergency came up."

He gave a small, airy chuckle and came to take the seat beside mine. "It's alright. This is why I'm here一to make sure you understand the material and answer any questions I can," he said, as he lowered himself into the chair.

I nodded a little, "Right, right..."

I grabbed my notebook and turned it to the next available page, and readied my pen. Most of what he'd talked about in class made sense, but only because of my mother's previous attempts to educate me on these topics.

It was a weird thing to try bonding with your child over. But, for some reason, it worked rather well and I remember most of what she'd told me. The only problem was the professor was not my mother. He was teaching a different curriculum and I needed to be able to follow along.

Hamish began speaking, "Alright. Let's start at the beginning. In Part One, Cleanthes accuses Philo of attempting to erect religious faith on philosophical skepticism. Cleanthes means to expose what he believes are flaws in philosophical skepticism. And philosophical skepticism is…?"

"The belief that human reason is fallible and therefore cannot be used as a benchmark to determine the reality of established truths," I answered, recalling the term from memory.

"Correct," he nodded once, with the corners of his mouth loosely upturned. "Philosophical skeptics doubt whether they can ever obtain enough convincing evidence一or justification一to support popular assumptions. Philo maintains that human reason alone is insufficient to determine the validity of religious claims."

Of course, I already knew this. But I wrote a few things on my notebook paper to remind myself just where we were at in the book. I'd read all one hundred and sixty pages of the _Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion _paperback in my mother's library.

I picked up a copy of it from the library yesterday just in case I needed it. Though, simply writing notes while Hamish talked about it was turning out to be an equally enjoyable alternative.

Just as I'd finished writing down my last note for what had been said, I felt a short buzz from my back pocket. My cell phone. Pursing my lips, I dug quickly into my pocket to pull out the device, checking the screen briefly.

It was a text message from Jack.

Apparently he'd gotten through the induction process far enough to take the final test, and he wanted me to meet him behind the library at the garden to discuss it. This was the worst possible time to want to talk.

What was I supposed to say? _Sorry I wasted time you didn't have to spend because I said I needed help, just so that I could cut out after five minutes _? Rude.

Investigating probably would've been easier had I just stuck to doing it alone. So far, partnering with Jack has done nothing but put me in awkward positions and crushed my attendance rate. "Everything okay?" Hamish suddenly asked.

"I'm really sorry, I need to go," I begrudgingly replied, as I slid my phone back into my pocket and closed up my notebook. "I have to follow up with yesterday's emergency."

He nodded again and began to stand up from his chair, "That's alright, I can write up a list of points to focus on with a few references for tomorrow."

"Oh, you don't have to do that-" I stood up, shaking my head rather quickly.

"It's my job to make sure you don't fail this class," he explained again, letting some air out of the apologetic balloon over my head.

I pulled my bag strap onto my shoulder with a heavy exhale. Sure, it was his job. But that didn't make me feel any better about wasting his time. "Okay...thank you," I conceded. After pushing in my chair, I headed for the exit.

"I hope all is well with your...emergency," Hamish said, as I reached the doorway.

I'd paused, turning a bit in my stance to glance back. He stood at his desk, hands slid in his pants pockets, only his head turned in my direction. I smiled a little, giving a small nod, "Thanks. See you tomorrow."

That's when I felt a second buzz. Jack, no doubt. Probably wondering why I hadn't responded. Even with the little I'd interacted with him, I knew he was most likely thinking the worst right now. So I tried to walk a little faster as I exited the classroom and crossed the length of the hall to the stairs.

As I walked, I texted him back, telling him I was on my way. Then I put my phone back in my pocket and focused on speed-walking to my destination. The library wasn't too far from the humanities building. It took me only a handful of minutes to get there.

I made it around the back of the library to the garden in good time. When I approached the garden, I noticed Jack was talking to a tall blonde. Her back was to me but I had a strong assumption of who she was.

Jack's eyes flitted in my direction after a moment and he excused himself from the conversation as soon as he'd noticed me. He walked past her and didn't stop until he'd met me halfway. I slowed to a stop and so did he, about two feet from each other.

He exhaled heavily, "So? What should I expect?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "It's a different test for every initiate."

"Well, that helps a lot. I wish I could just see into the future, so I could...know what was going to happen."

"There's magic for that."

Jack's head tilted quizzically, vaguely skeptical, "Really?"

"Yeah," I nodded, pulling out my cell phone with a straight face. "What's your zodiac?"

His eyes rolled so far back into his skull, I genuinely feared they would get stuck一or possibly get lost on their way back. "Ha ha," he fake-laughed, mockingly.

In a split second, it clicked. My features dropped yet tightened at the same time as it hit me just what words he'd thrown at me. "Hold on-" I spoke suddenly, holding up a finger. "Why the hell did you ask me what to expect?"

Jack tilted his head with an expression of 'isn't it obvious?' and my stomach dropped, "I met another member一an actual member一and when I mentioned your name-"

"What the fuck, Morton?"

"What?"

"You can't just go throwing my name around whenever you feel like it!"

He looked more confused than anything, "I thought you weren't scared about what they might do, that it was worth getting answers for."

I exhaled a short, huff of a breath. My hands came up, making a motion to display my desire to strangle him, before dropping to my sides as I turned away from him. If I looked any longer I would just become more angered.

No, he had no idea why he would need to keep my name out of it. But it still made no sense to me why he would bring me up in a conversation with someone in the Order. We're trying to investigate them一we can't do that very easily if they know we're onto them.

"Gray, talk to me. What's going on? Are you in the Order? Are they out for you or something? Just tell me," Jack hit me with the questions I was expecting based on the progression of this conversation.

Inhaling, I turned back to face him in a jerk, matching the frustration rising inside me. "Jack...the less you know the better but, no, I'm not _in _the Order一and I never will be," I answered, as calmly as I could manage. "Telling someone on the inside you know me could ruin your chances of getting in."

Jack raised an eyebrow, "Why?"

"Because I know people in and around the organization. It's cheating, I could give you all the answers," I threw out the words quickly, ripping off the band-aid.

He sighed, shoulders dropping as he turned his head to look somewhere to my right. As long as he didn't ask any more detailed questions, we could get past this. Although he asked another question, it一thankfully for me一wasn't too bad.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew people on the inside?" he asked, his gaze returning to mine.

Again, I shrugged, "I didn't know if I could trust you. I just met you, Jack."

His head nodded like he understood, but his eyes looked a bit vacant, like he was thinking it over pretty hard. Suddenly, he snapped back, asking, "Do you trust me _now _?"

"Honestly, I think you're more trouble than you're worth," I told him, calmly. "But, yeah, I guess I'm willing to give it a shot."


	3. So You Can Stop It

"So, let me get this straight. You want to...kill your own father?" I squinted, turning my head to give Jack a wary look as we walked back to the dormitory.

He tilted his head momentarily in an expression before exhaling a deep sigh, "Well, when you leave out all the awful stuff he's done一it _does_ sound pretty bad, yeah."

"Hey, I'm not judging. My dad's a little fucked up, too. But this plan sounds flawed."

"How so? I mean, aside from the obvious."

I sighed, "Uh, you're pledging your allegiance to a magical secret society that will literally kill you the moment you go at Coventry一after however long it takes you to get there. It's a fucking cult, Morton. A cult with _magic powers_."

"You're saying I got the shit end of the stick," Jack stated, rhetorically. I nodded a little, shrugging my shoulders, and Jack sighed heavily. "Can't argue with you there."

No, he can't. If you ask me, any parental figure that sends their young into the lion's den for their own personal gain probably doesn't care as much about their young as they should. No amount of being 'old fashioned' changes that.

Though, I probably was not the most qualified person to speak about how parents should treat their children. Or about how families should work at all. As we reached the front of Townsend House, I noticed something familiar一someone, to be more specific.

A tall-dark-and-handsome was just coming off the steps. "Randall?" I asked, to get his attention. He was preoccupied with his cell phone, most likely texting. But he looked up from the device the second I'd spoken his name.

Randall bore his teeth in a cheeky smile. "Hey, Gray," he said, coming to a stop a couple feet before me and Jack. He glanced between us and made a gesture with his phone, "I didn't know you two knew each other."

"I didn't know _you two_ knew each other," Jack piped up, looking between Randall and I with a rather perplexed expression.

I shrugged, not knowing what else to do in the awkwardness of the situation, "I guess it's a small campus after all."

"You're telling me," Randall chuckled a little, making a sarcastic expression of agreement. "I've got a class to get to, but i'll see you guys around."

He'd glanced between me and Jack with a carefree smile, before patting Jack's shoulder as he walked around him to follow the sidewalk. "Oh, Gray-" I turned around, raising an eyebrow at the sound of Randall's voice from behind me. He pointed a finger in my direction as he walked backward, away from me, "-I'll call you."

My body's first instinct was to hold up my thumb in agreement with a casual smile, as if I genuinely believed it was in a 'just friends' context. Randall smiled wider at my gesture, looking on a moment longer before turning around to walk straight forward again.

I felt the presence at my side shift, drawing my gaze back to Jack. He was giving me a look that was a mixture of things一surprise, curiosity, humor. "What?" I questioned.

"You guys are dating?" another rhetorical question.

Shaking my head, I replied, "Not yet."

That answer caused him to corkscrew his lips, tilting his head, and I smiled patronizingly at him before taking to the stairs. I only had a couple hours before it was time to walk to the Sigma Sigma Delta house for the party.

I'd already worn one of the only dresses I owned, so I would have to dress it down a bit. But that was fine. I wasn't going to actually party. I was going to be too busy investigating and not giving a shit to worry about my outfit choice.

Jack walked with me to my room. He was supposed to be helping me with a game plan for tonight but, the second I opened the door, all he could do was snoop. I stepped inside, holding the door, and Jack gradually gravitated to the right side of the room一Chelsea's side.

Sighing a little, I locked up the door. "Is this all Chelsea's stuff?" Jack asked, knowingly. He moseyed to Chelsea's desk, visibly eyeing the few papers she'd left out for what was supposed to be her lecture the morning after her night of fun.

"Mm hm," I nodded, as I crossed the room to get to my suitcase. "No one's come to get her things yet, but they probably will soon."

I hefted my main suitcase onto my bed, unzipped and opened the lid, then started sifting through the mess. There wasn't much time to unpack everything what with all this investigating and studying going on.

Chelsea and I were supposed to unpack and decorate the room together. Doing it without her was a thought too depressing to process just yet. Jack, exhaling rather loudly, dropped onto my bed beside the suitcase.

"So, you really think you'll be able to find something out at this party?" he asked, before flopping back on the comforter.

"Well, Addison said she saw Chelsea take the sidewalk out the back gate," I recalled, pulling a top out of the suitcase to get a better look. "If anything, I might just find something following that sidewalk."

"But why was she in the backyard in the first place?"

"I don't know. Another thing to figure out, I guess."

Turning slightly, I held the top up to my body, raising an eyebrow in question to Jack. He wrinkled his nose and gave a shake of his head, so I tossed it back in the suitcase. "And while you're actually making progress, I'll be taking some random final test," he huffed a bit.

"Two birds, Jack. Two birds," I replied, as I sifted. Down near the bottom of the suitcase was a glittery, silver and black top. The design reminded me of a pair of jeans I knew should be in the suitcase, so I set the top aside and dug around for the pants.

Sure enough, I found them in the far right corner. They were one of my most comfortable pairs of jeans. Small, plastic diamonds ran down the outer thighs of boths legs. I laid the two together as best as I could atop the now messy suitcase to see if they truly matched. Jack mused, "Does it really matter what you wear?"

"Not really, but I can't go looking like a crawled out of a dumpster if I want to blend in, can I?"

"True," he tipped his head in an expression, then pushed himself upright. "Test or no test, call me if something happens, okay?"

My eyes shifted in his direction, my eyebrows lowering. "If I get into trouble, what are you gonna do? You'll be God knows where. Relax, Morton. I got this," I assured him. I nabbed the clothes off the suitcase and pulled the lid closed. "If you don't wanna see my bra, you might wanna turn around."

I didn't wait before tugging my sweatshirt over my head. There was a tank top beneath it, so it was no big deal. Sighing, Jack dropped back against the bed, his eyes sticking to the ceiling to avoid looking at me.

It only took me a moment to swap shirts. Then I quickly changed out my jeans, swapping black ones for the ones with diamonds, before signaling the all-clear. "Okay, you're good," I announced, as I flipped my hair back while standing up in order to resituate it.

"Are you this comfortable around every guy you've only known for three days, or am I just special?" Jack smirked a little, speaking sarcastically as he sat up once again.

I paused, clutching my wadded up tank top to my chest as I softened my expression dramatically. "It's only you, Jack," I said, wistfully. "It's always been you."

His hand went straight for a t-shirt draped on the bed beside him, and he hurled it at me in retaliation. A laugh bubbled it's way up my throat as I dodged the projectile shirt. It missed me by at least an inch.

There were moments like this that I shared with Noah. Those brief but memorable times when we both acted like stereotypical siblings, not like the strangers we were just two years ago. It was bittersweet to think about一so I tried not to.

I shuffled to my desk and sat in the chair to put on my shoes. "So, you really can't give me anything to go on?" Jack prodded, squinting an eye in an expression.

"Nope," I shook my head.

He sighed heavily一again. There really wasn't anything I could say that would help him tonight. Though, I could understand his persistence. I would be just as nervous if I'd actually been tapped. In a sarcastic quip, he said, "Why'd we team up again?"

"Because we need each other for information."

"Right."

Jack snapped his fingers once before standing up from the bed. I finished swapping shoes and stood as well, stepping back toward the bed to get a jacket. "Be cool, soda pop," I exhaled, grabbing the leather jacket I'd worn to the first party. "You'll do fine. Text me when you get accepted, 'kay?"

I pulled it on and walked for the door. Jack huffed a chuckle, and I could hear him following behind me. I'd made sure to grab my bag before walking out. I couldn't do much investigating late in the evening without a flashlight, and I needed my phone to take pictures of possible evidence.

A small notepad would be great for keeping track of my thoughts. It looked like a normal bag, but it really doubled as my Nancy Drew detective tool bag. Jack and I had to split up once we got outside to get to the right places for our various events.

Then, I was walking by myself to the Sigma house.

During the walk to the frat house, I ran the information we already knew through my head, refreshing for when I find out something knew. That way it would be easier to piece it all together. It all sounded so crazy.

What did I even know about investigating a murder? Especially one with supernatural forces at play? I mean, I've watched a lot of Supernatural, but I don't think that counts for much in a real world situation like this.

Music could be heard down the street as I approached Sigma Sigma. Party-goers littered the front lawn and crowded the wrap-around porch. Everyone was drinking. Everyone was oblivious. I made my way up the steps and slipped inside the house.

My eyes scanned for familiar faces as I eased myself through the house toward the back, making sure I didn't run into anyone who would try to talk to me and ask why I was here. After all, why would I want to come back here? It was the last place I saw Chelsea. That could either mean something horrific or something sentimental for me.

It meant neither.

The music became low and high like a volume wave as I passed doorways to the living area, walking straight into the kitchen. Once again there was beer of every kind and some hard liquors on the counter.

It was just like the first party. Even the music was similar. _Why did I even try to get into the partying scene?_ I'd rolled my eyes at the introspective question. I knew why I tried to get into it, but that didn't make it any less pathetic.

The back door was already open, a few guests hanging out on the porch一drinking, smoking, laughing. Completely oblivious. I stepped through the open sliding-glass door and walked to the railing of the wrap-around porch. From the second I walked in the door of the frat house, I'd wanted to go straight out back and dig around.

But that would be a little weird. So, just to be inconspicuous, I took a little time in each spot. Like a game of leapfrog一hopping from the door, to the kitchen, to the back porch, to the yard. Next was the yard. I gave a few casual glances to my left and right as I moseyed lazily down onto the lawn.

Obviously, I have no idea what i'm doing.

Investigating a murder is kind of a first for me, like most people put in my situation. Still I felt like the only idiot in the world at that moment. A preliminary glance around the yard revealed nothing out of the ordinary. I kept looking, doing my best to look casual as I drifted toward the fence lining the sidewalk.

Out of seemingly nowhere, a sudden drop in skin temperature caused the hair at the nape of my neck to stand on end, a few bumps freckling my arms. I knew what it was almost immediately一a pair of eyes. Someone was watching me.

In a split second I'd gone from confused to knowing too much. Vera said she'd put someone in charge of looking after me. Whoever it is must really be dedicated to the Order if they're willing to follow me into a frat party full of half-drunk morons.

Sighing heavily at the thought, I pulled open the fence's gate and stepped down onto the sidewalk. It was getting fairly dark out, meaning it would be easier to lose this asshole, even with the few streetlights.

So I started walking. To the best of my knowledge, this route was a little more of a roundabout way of getting back to campus. If Chelsea went this way that would explain why she was a target一if it really had nothing to do with her being a pledge.

It was a bit secluded, with less light, making it the perfect path to attack someone. Person or not, it was the ideal. A bout of nausea hit my stomach as it sunk in how morbid this line of thinking was. Who looks at a place and thinks, _this would be a good place to kill someone_?

I mean, other than the killers themselves. No normal person, that's for sure. I didn't get far from the frat house when I felt a presence. It loomed over me from behind, combining with the bumps and upright hairs, creating an uncomfortable sensation of unrest.

All along my left were the backs of small houses. But, to my right, was nothing but trees. I pulled my bag strap over my head to secure it across my chest and kept walking for just a few more feet. Then I bolted.

I dove to the right, breaking into a sprint. The idea was to get this fool lost, then circle back, and I could continue investigating as I needed. Though, it was incredibly dark in the trees this late in the evening. I kept running, however, with no choice of turning around just yet.

Thin, low hanging branches slapped my arms, the zipping sound mixing in with the sound of crushing leaves and breaking twigs from beneath my feet. Those things, along with the sound of my heart thrumming in my ears, made it almost impossible to hear if anyone was behind me still.

So after a little while, I stopped. My chest was heaving as I finally turned around to look. To the best of my eyesight I couldn't see anyone in the near vicinity. And I didn't expect there to be. There's no way some Order lacky is going to be able to keep up with _me _in a high speed chase.

Vera had to know that could happen. You'd think she would've thought ahead and assigned to me someone with the ability to keep up. But, this is Vera we're talking about. There's no way she actually thought of that.

I stood there a minute, catching my breath while I waited enough time for whoever was following me to get fed up and leave. I could see it now. There would be laziness. A moment of indecision, knowing what Vera would do if she found out. Then that fed up 'ah, forget about it' before finally deciding to go home for the night.

In the middle of the 'ah, forget about it' thought, I heard a sound. A hollow, shrill crack. It was just loud enough to startle me. I turned quickly to face the direction of the sound. But there was nothing. The sky above was still blue一as dark as it was一but I knew it was too late to be out in the woods alone.

And as that knowledge came to mind, so did another morbid line of thinking. This could be what happened to Chelsea. She was out late, went down that sidewalk path, and maybe she wandered off in her drunken state?

Whether there was any truth to the theory or not I still found myself backing away from where I'd heard the sound. The chill of the night was setting in, cooling my arms even through my jacket. I could feel it, twisting and forming its own sheet of ice along my spine. It kept my bones rigid and I trembled against it.

Again, there was a sound. I couldn't quite place it, and I didn't care to as I turned myself around, forcing myself to move quickly back toward the sidewalk. I wasn't sure how far into the trees i'd gone. I'd tried to think back, tried to gauge how fast I needed to move to get to it before I completely panicked.

That's when I heard a growl. It rumbled right into my eardrums, vibrating my ribs, and something made me stop. I didn't know what it was. Maybe I was in shock? Maybe the fear and the cold were keeping me from moving any farther?

Or maybe it was what I saw when I turned around?

At first I'd only twisted my upper body to see behind me. Then, out of sheer intrigue, I turned around completely to face the sounds coming from what I could only assume was a wild animal. Most likely a dog or some kind of bear.

What else could growl like that? Well, probably a lot of other things, but none I could think of that resided in these woods. Eyes rounded, I reached a trembling hand into my bag, the strap still tight across my chest.

I dug out my flashlight. When I flicked it on, a light beam shot forward. In that beam was the tale end of something horrific. It was incredibly large and covered in fur, but the thing moved too fast for me to see much else. Either way, the growling sounds it made intensified when it passed, causing me to startle back a few steps.

I almost一_almost_一dropped the flashlight. Thank God I didn't. My fingers gripped onto it tighter after that, as if that tiny device could somehow offer comfort and reassurance from being in my grip. It was a long shot but I was too terrified not to take that chance.

My chest was heaving again, this time from pure terror-fueled adrenaline. Yet, at the same time, something in my brain was going crazy. _You have to know_, I thought. _You have to know what killed Chelsea, so you can stop it_.

But my body was having a hard time coming to terms with this course of action. My feet were moving but they did not understand. Everything else within me screamed at me, begging me to get back to the sidewalk and get home. Instead, I walked forward.

My trembling hand once again dug into my bag一this time, for my cell phone. I pulled out the phone and opened the string of messages with Jack. Very messily, my fingertips pressed the keys, and I wrote out a text.

I told Jack all that had happened and what I was doing now, explaining the lead I was following as best as could with how unbelievable it sounded, and then I hit send. After that, I slid my phone away and did not touch it for the rest of the night.

There was no further sight of whatever kind of beast I was chasing in my flashlight but still I walked. All I could hear were my feet crushing leaves and small twigs. That, and my somewhat ragged breathing. I waved the flashlight to the right, paused, then waved it to the left.

For a second it didn't register just what i'd seen on the right. I had to move my flashlight back over it, and even then my brain couldn't comprehend it. My feet stopped cold as I took it in. A concrete building sat there in the trees. It looked to be old, cracking and covered in ivy and moss.

Overgrown, falling apart, all alone out here in nothing but endless forest. I could relate. Something about the structure piqued my curiosity. The building wasn't all that big. It looked to be a tall cylinder, maybe ten feet. As I approached, I noticed its odd structural pattern.

All over the outside of the building was a kind of diamond pattern. Ropes of concrete criss-crossed each other to make the risen shapes, giving it a braided look. Moss grew inside the diamonds and ivy covered most of the building.

It seemed odd on one hand yet intoxicatingly intriguing on the other. _Who would put this much detail into something they were just going to abandon?_ I thought. The door to the inside was a hunk of rotting wood hanging on some hinges. It hung open a few inches, cracked in odd lines.

I reached out, taking a step closer, and slid my fingers around the handle. The metal was cold but that wasn't what startled me. A throaty growl from somewhere behind caused my whole body to lurch forward.

Without a second thought, my hand yanked open the stiff and broken wood of the door, and I scurried inside the dark building. I tugged the door closed behind me as quickly as I could in a rush of panic. That thing was back. Had it done what I tried to do with my follower? Did it run ahead, lose me, then come back to watch me?

I wasn't sure what thought was more terrifying一the thing existing at all, or it wanting to following me through the woods. Inside the safety of the concrete building, I took a deep breath and stepped back from the door. When I did my heels clattered into something hard.

Startled yet again, I hopped forward, then twisted quickly to shine my flashlight on the object I'd run into. My light beam landed on what looked to be some kind of wooden chest. It sat there in the middle of the floor, alone, with its lid hung open.

From what I could tell the box was empty. But it made me even more curious. So I lifted my flashlight and shone the light beam across the inside of the building. It looked to be empty, for the most part. A built in ledge of some kind ran around the circular inside wall.

Atop the ledge were various small things一a few books maybe, and what looked like some kind of lamp stand or candle holder. To the far right was another chest, this one closed.

I sidestepped around the open chest on the floor and walked closer to the closed chest on the ledge. The light beam remained on it as I approached. There were only a few steps between us when the wooden box suddenly shifted in a lurch.

The movement caused a loud thud, the sound echoing off the walls of the empty concrete chamber. My body reacted with a startle but this one was more isolated. I ceased in moving forward and instead leaned back on my heels, a ready-to-run stance. The light beam was trembling as violently as my hand.

Briefly, I wondered if Chelsea had taken refuge here. Maybe that was why the door was cracked so oddly? It could've chased her here. She could've never made it far after making a break for it. My mind was racing with theories when the wooden chest suddenly jerked.

The left corner lurched forward an inch, popping up off the ledge, and the lid dented outward momentarily一almost as if something was pushing it up from the inside.

My whole body lurched back this time and, almost as if trying to follow me, the wooden chest bounced forward. It tumbled off the ledge, falling open as its front hit the concrete floor. The loud sound, the weird movement一I was shaking so hard the flashlight fell out of my hand.

It hit the floor when I shot backward, and the metal device rolled a few inches from the momentum. The light beam shined right at the front of the chest. Mere seconds after it did, the lid was thrust open, snapping upright from the pressure inside.

Every part of me trembled violently now. The inside looked black and empty, but only looked that way for a split second. Something inside moved and I couldn't hold it in anymore. I screamed. I didn't care if it told that thing outside where I was. This shit was getting a little too horror-esque for me.

My terrified voice seemed only to draw it out. The darkness inside the chest writhed and twisted and, if I didn't know any better, I would say it looked like it had fur.

The shadowy object then lunged out, hurling in my direction with incredible speed, sprawling out in width as it gained distance from the chest. It hit me with a force that knocked me back against the decrepit wooden door. My scream was cut short, and instead I was grunting from the pain, then shrieking as the furry darkness began to cover my body.

It latched onto my torso like a fucking leech. I grabbed at it, pulling and yanking, and it only covered my whole being even faster. The darkness spread so quickly I barely had the chance to pull on it once before darkness was all I could see.

It was mere second before I could feel it rescind, letting go of my body as if it dissolved, and I could open my eyes一if I dared. As I tried to lift my eyelids, I found myself battling with a harsh light. The light caused a dull throb between my eyes.

But I forced them open still out of a desperate need to know. I had to know what happened. I had to know where the darkness went. My eyelids finally lifted totally and I squinted against the light until my vision adjusted.

From what I could tell, I was still at the location of the concrete building, but I was outside. To the right of me was the door. The wood had fallen off its hinges, slumped to the side on the soft dirt. It wasn't quite right, the positioning, for it to have fallen. My eyes moved to the hinges. Realization hit me the moment I saw them.

Or, rather, the lack thereof. The hinges were gone, torn from the frame they'd been securely screwed into. It was obvious then that the door had been ripped off. More and more, questions began to pop up as I took in my surroundings.

Somehow I was outside, somehow the door had been ripped off, somehow it was daylight. It was a rather cold morning. Or, maybe, it was just a cold night? Did I sleep out here all night? Why didn't I go home? Why didn't I know what had happened?

My skin felt numb from the cold, but still I shivered. Upon a glance down I confirmed a deep-set fear一I was naked. Completely naked, I sat in the dirt and dried leaves, my skin smudged with what I hoped to be just dried dirt.

None of this made any sense to me. But I think I was too hungover from last night's reeling emotions to truly feel the weight of it all. My first action was to find my clothes. Very shakily, I climbed to my feet. In standing I could see the area much better.

I looked around a bit outside before daring to step up to the doorway of the concrete building. I didn't go in, but I didn't need to in order to see my clothes in there on the flooring, tattered and torn. My flashlight was still on, laying there by the empty wooden chest, and my bag一strap now ripped from the main body一lay open by it.

Carefully, I took two slow steps inside the building. Just enough to bend forward and snatch my bag from the floor without spending too much time by the chest. It was empty now, but it had looked empty last night as well, and look at how that turned out.

Bag clutched tightly to my bare chest, I retreated back into the open forest, and dug into the bag to find my phone. Surely Jack had received my text last night. Maybe he would know what the hell was going on?

My brain was a bit scattered. I was moving my hand around inside the bag but, for a second, I'd forgotten was I was looking for. And for the life of me I couldn't remember what it was. Normally, that wouldn't be a big deal. But I was standing stark naked out in the woods with no memory of what happened during the night. This was a big deal.

Frustrated, I moved things around and searched in my bag until it finally came to me. My cell phone. I latched onto the device and immediately opened my messages. Jack hadn't replied.

A morbid idea floated through my mind that maybe he'd come to find me when I sent my first text, then whatever thing was outside waiting for me made sure he never arrived? A shiver ran down my spine and I clutched the bag to my chest again. This time, I started running.

Naked or not, I needed to get back to my dorm. I needed to get back, find Jack, and sort all this out. Getting into my dorm without streaking across campus might be a little more difficult than anticipated, but I reasoned that I would cross that bridge when I got there.

So I kept running, I kept running and I did my best to follow my mental compass toward the campus. Of course, my compass was fifty shades of fucked with all that happened. I wasn't sure in which direction the campus really was. But I had to start somewhere.

I had to find some kind of direction, a landmark to help me figure out where to go. It was nothing but woods for a while. Then the trees tapered out to houses. I found the sidewalk path between the Sigma Sigma house and Belgrave sooner than I expected, but there was a hitch一if I followed it, I would be streaking all the way to campus.

Was I really that desperate? It wasn't like I was insecure about my body to the point I was willing to stay out in the woods naked all day. But the thought of countless eyes gawking as I ran naked did trigger some unhappy thoughts and feelings. I had to remind myself of just where I was, the reality of my circumstances.

_At this point there's nothing to lose_, I thought.

So I clutched my bag to my chest even tighter than before and I booked it. My bare feet slapped the pavement and the wind rushed through my ears as I sprinted by streets and houses.

If I thought about what I was doing for too long, I'd get almost too humiliated to keep going. What had my life turned into? Investigating magical murders, following large beasts in the woods at night, and running naked through the streets. Can you be on drugs and not know?

I'm beginning to think it's possible I hit my head and will soon wake up in a hospital room surrounded by friends and family. This is the stuff of deranged hallucinations. Even with my very fast sprint, it took a few minutes to get to campus. Thankfully, the dormitory was not that far from where the path spit me out.

Still there were plenty of people going to and from Townsend House. It was early, but not early enough that people weren't trying to get to class. Shit. It figures that the universe would decide to throw all this at me right now, rather than some other more convenient time.

No, that would be too easy. I sidled up to the brick side of the building and leaned around the corner a bit to see the front entrance. The plan was to watch it, wait for the least amount of traffic possible, and then book it to my room.

That opportunity didn't come before a real-life miracle happened. I'm not a religious person, but when the RA of your floor一whom you know is a really nice person一comes out of a building you're waiting to enter because you're butt naked...it has to be a sign. My hand shot out from behind the building and flailed, "Michelle! Hey, Michelle! Over here."

She was just coming off the steps when I called for her and, though looking rather confused, didn't hesitate to come toward me. "Hey, Gray...what's going on? Why are you back there?" Michelle asked, coming to a stop a foot from the corner.

"Well, funny story一i'm really naked right now, and I need to get inside to get my clothes-"

"Oh, shit. Hold on- I've got a change of clothes in my bag," Michelle said, quickly taking her backpack off her shoulder. "It's just sweats but it'll get you inside."

I sighed in relief, hanging against the building, "You are seriously a lifesaver, you have no idea."

She dug into her backpack and pulled out a pair of Belgrave blue sweatpants and a matching Belgrave sweatshirt, chuckling a little from my words. "Always gotta be prepared if you're going to school at this place. Weird shit's always happening these days," she said.

As I took the clothes from her, I realized she was right. Weird shit was always happening. Even though the world was a weird-shit kinda place, it seemed localized at this fucked up university. "Are you going to be okay going in?" Michelle asked, once I'd gotten the clothes on.

They were a little snug in some places, but it was so much better than going in naked. I nodded quickly, finally able to step around the corner, putting myself in public view. "Yeah, I'll be fine," I assured her. "Thank you so much for this一I'll get you your clothes back."

"No worries. But I'm pretty sure your Philosophy class starts in, like, twenty minutes so you better hurry," she told me, before walking past me to rejoin the sidewalk.

I hadn't even thought of my morning classes, I just knew I needed to get back to my room. But I really can't be late for yet another Philosophy-related thing. I've been late to every class and missed the fucking lecture. It was not helping my image at all.

So I swore under my breath and ran up the steps into the dormitory. With all the sprinting without warm-up I was doing this morning, I was bound to get a shin splint. My track coach would probably murder me for not taking care of myself. But it wasn't like I had a choice一other than functioning like a normal person so I wasn't running late all the time.

Making it to my dorm only took a couple of minutes. Then I rounded up my things and put them in a different bag. Mine was too damaged to use at this point.

There wasn't time to take a full-on shower, so I used some wet wipes to wash off the dirt smudges you could see after I changed clothes. It was gross but the rest would have to wait for later. Once I was clean enough, I pulled on the strap of my new bag and left the room.

Jeans and a Belgrave sweatshirt were becoming the only things I showed up to classes wearing, and it was starting to bug me. For once, I'd like to be able to shower, style my hair, and go out in public wearing something a little more intricate.

As I trotted down the front steps of Townsend House, I tried texting Jack again. There was no reason to jump to such conclusion as him being eaten by a mythical creature just yet. I would give him another few texts and some time to show up.

If, after all that, he didn't show一then it was time to worry.


End file.
